The Complicated Life of Bailey Liza Carter
by fairy-dust3
Summary: Story told through the eyes of Abby and Carter's 16 year old daughter
1. Default Chapter

I do not own any of the characters except Bailey Carter, Jonathan Truman Carter IV and Anja Kovac.  
  
This is a totally AU fic told through the eyes of Abby and Carter's sixteen year old daughter. Howver, this is not a Carby - I am not a carby fan. I am a Luby through and through. So...Abby and Luka are together and have a nine month old daughter named Anja. Carter is with Lucy and they have a thirteen year old son, Jonathan Truman Carter IV. Dave never left, Mark never died, as you may have gathered, Lucy never died.  
  
Please review but be nice! Any suggestions welcome. Also, I don't know much about the medical stuff so anyone who could give me a hand with that...the help would be welcome.  
  
That having been said - Enjoy!  
  
CHAPTER ONE - MY LIFE SO FAR  
  
Mum says I have to go and spend the weekend with dad. There's some important Carter family event or something and, a.p.u, I have to go to it and pretend like I care, like I'm proud to be a Carter. But they're all so hypocritical. They have all the balls for charities and act like, even though they have money, they are down-to-earth, model citizens, when really it's to show off all their money. Sure, the charities they do it for are good, but their reasons aren't.  
  
Dad doesn't like Luka Kovac, my step-dad, and, whenever I spend time with him, makes snotty comments about things Luka has done or said in the past, or how he treated someone at work, which isn't fair, 'cause I like Luka, love him even, he treats me like his own daughter. Dad doesn't like him because he says Luka 'stole mum away from him' which is total crap. See, firstly, mum and Luka dated before mum and dad got together, and mum never stopped loving him, and never truly loved dad. And, on the subject of stealing, dad was sleeping with another doctor, Susan Lewis. She left soon after it was all found out.  
  
Mum and dad were divorced when I was two. Dad had been sleeping with Susan for almost two years. Mum said it was a good thing because all they ever did was fight. That is, when dad was home, which, wasn't often. Towards the end they were barely ever home at the same time, arranging their shifts so they wouldn't be.  
  
Anyway, after Luka returned from Africa, dad in tow, and after he recovered from his bought of malaria, mum and Luka re-found each other, and discovered that they'd loved each other the entire time. They were surprised, but, other than dad, no one else was. It seemed they all already knew and had bets on when they'd stop being idiots and get back together. They were married last year, I was mum's maid of honour, with Lucy Knight and Chuni as bridesmaids. Luka's best friend Dave Malucci was best man. I like Dave, he's been around pretty much all the time, sorta like my honourary uncle. He works at the hospital with all four of my parents.  
  
Yup, all four. When I was thirteen, Dad married Lucy Knight, even though they'd been together ever since he and mum got divorced. I like Lucy, she's sweet and very funny and sometimes takes me shopping. Her and mum get on well, which shocked us all, but that's the way it happened. When I was three years old, my half-brother, Jonathan Truman Carter IV, was born. He's thirteen now and he's just like dad. Ignorant, stuck up his own ass, and annoying. He looks like Lucy though, fair hair and big blue eyes, so he looks so angelic, totally opposite to me.  
  
I look like Mum. Straight brown hair and hazel eyes, short and thin. I don't mind looking like mum. I think she's beautiful. So does Luka, you can tell he thinks it every time he looks at her, or a picture of her, or someone even says the name 'Abby'. They make a gorgeous couple, do Luka and mum. She's so small, only five foot five, and he's so tall, six foot four last time I checked. And, of course, Luka's so handsome, with his jet back hair that curls at the back of his neck and deep brown eyes. Course, I don't have a crush on Luka, that'd be sick, he's my step-dad. More and more like my dad these days.  
  
A year and a half ago, mum and Luka made an announcement. They were pregnant. Well, actually, mum was the pregnant one. Then nine months later, almost ten months ago, Anja was born. I love Anja so much, she's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. She's really little, like mum, but she has lots of dark hair, like Luka, and dark brown eyes, like Luka, and olive skin, like Luka. Mum and Luka let me name her. I wanted her to have Croatian names, which is where Luka is from, and makes her sound so much more exotic and interesting. So I chose, Anja, which is just a lovely name, Marija, after Luka's mother, who is so cool, and Jasna, after Luka's little daughter. Anja Marija Jasna Kovac. So much better than my name. Bailey Liza Carter. I wanted to change my named to Carter-Kovac, but, surprise, surprise, dad wouldn't let me.  
  
So now we come to the present day. It's April 19th 2003, six days after my sixteenth birthday. Right now I'm sitting in my room, putting the finishing touches to my purple painted nails. I haven't seen dad for a month of so, 'cause him, Lucy and John Jr, Jr, Jr, or whatever, have been away. That's why I have to spend this weekend with him. Well, next weekend. Today is Saturday, and I'm about to go bug Luka for a lift to the mall so I can meet up with my friends. Mum is giving Anja a bath, I can hear her giggling and splashing about. As I go out my room and go past the bathroom, I smile at them. Mum smiles back and blows me a kiss. I blow one back and Anja giggles excitedly.  
  
"Bye bye Anja," I say, waving at her.  
  
"Bailey," the baby replies.  
  
I can tell today is going to be good. That's the first time Anja's ever said my name. Mum claps and hugs Anja, kissing her pudgy, baby cheek. I go in a kiss her dark hair. It smells like strawberries, like mums.  
  
"Have fun today hun," says Mum.  
  
"You too."  
  
"Call when you want picking up."  
  
"Yes mum."  
  
Mum and Luka are pretty leniant. They let me do a lot of stuff. One of their only rules - I have to call. As long as I call I'm okay. 


	2. Not Everything is about you

CHAPTER TWO - Not everything is about you  
  
Dad is pissed. Not drunk pissed, angry pissed. What a surprise. I've been in his house for all of, what, ten minutes, fifteen if I'm lucky, and already he's yelling at me.  
  
"When the hell did you get that...thing done?" he yells.  
  
I raise my right eyebrow at me, the eyebrow, which, at the moment, is the soruce of this arguement.  
  
"You mean, when did I get my eyebrow pierced?"  
  
Yup, dad going red faced and tyrant like all caused by a small bar going thorugh the end of my right eyebrow. Wait 'til he finds out I have my belly button done too.  
  
"Yes. When did you get it done?"  
  
"'Bout three weeks ago."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"The piercing pagodo in the mall."  
  
"What did your mother say?"  
  
"She took my to have it done." I smile at him.  
  
"Why do you do this to yourself?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Put all those holes in yourself? I could handle the first two in your ears, but now each one done three times? One at the top? Your eyebrow? What's next...your bellybutton?"  
  
I sigh, stand up, and pull up the bottom of my shirt.  
  
"Of course. Did your mother take you to have that done too?"  
  
"No it was a birthday present from Dave. Mum said it was fine though."  
  
Best he doesn't find out I'm geting a tattoo in the holidays.  
  
He sighs and sit opposite me. "Is this to make some kind of point? Are you rebelling somehow?"  
  
Of course, he thinks everything has something to do wirh him. "This has nothing to do with you, or anyone, and it's not me rebelling or trying to get you to notice me because I feel left out as I don't see you as much as I'd apparantly like and I don't feel I'm second best to the brat child or anything other physcological babble your about to come out with." I do pay attention when people talk all medical around me. Luka lets me look at his charts when he brings them home. "It's just...something I like."  
  
"Ever since you've been living with...with him-"  
  
I hate when dad does this. Refers to Luka as 'him' or as 'your mother's husband'. "You can say his name dad. It won't kill you. And it's got nothing to do with Luka. Or mum. Or you. Or Lucy. Or Anja. Or the brat. Or anyone. It's all me."  
  
"I'd so much rather you didn't refer to my son as a brat."  
  
Like I said, Johnny, that's what they all call him, looks so angelic that anyone refuses to believe he can to any wrong. Except Lucy, she sees right through him. But he really is a brat. The biggest there is.  
  
"I'd so much rather you didn't refer to Luka as 'that commie wife stealer' but we can't all get what we want."  
  
"Don't take that tone with me."  
  
"Oh just shut up dad. You don't know me."  
  
"Of course I know you. You're my daughter."  
  
"Okay. What's my favourite color."  
  
"Pink."  
  
"Purple. What's my favourite band?"  
  
"N*Sync?"  
  
"Yea, right. Linkin Park. Who's my best friend?"  
  
"Sara."  
  
"I havn't spoken to her in five years. Matty." I try the ultimate test of how much he knows about me. I shut my eyes. "What color are my eyes?"  
  
"Bluey-grey, like mine."  
  
I sigh, sadly. "Wrong, hazel, like mum's." I pull on my jacket and pick up my bag. "Screw this, I'm going home." 


	3. A mint choc chip moment

In response to the review about my portrayal of Carter - I know the way I have showed him is totally the opposite to the way he is but it really helps the story and don't worry - he does change in a few chapters.  
  
CHAPTER THREE - A mint choc chip moment  
  
Luka is sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen as I storm in, throwing my bag across the room, and slumping dramatically into a chair. As my parents say, I am a bit of a drama queen at times. "Having some problems?" asks Luka, looking up from his charts. "You could say that." "Why aren't you at your dad's?" After I don't answer he nods understandingly. "You want to talk about it?" I shrug. "Should I get my good friends Ben and Jerry?" I smile at him and sit opposite him and as he goes to the freezer and gets out a tub of ice cream. "Hey, mint choc chip!" I exclaim. "My favourite!" Luka grins. "Mine too." "Mum hates it." "She's not a fan of mint." "I don't know why not." "Okay miss, stop changing the subject with entertaining ice cream talk and tell me what's up." I take a bite of the ice cream and shrug. "Dad's just..I went over there and he flipped out." "About your eyebrow?" "Yup. He asked why I mutilated myself. Then he asked if I was rebelling against him, or mum, or you." "Ah yes, why would you not want to rebel against the commie wife stealer?" "You know he calls you that?" "Course I do. But what else? This cannot all just be about a piercing." "He knows nothing about me. He didn't know my favourite color, my favourite band, my best friend. He didn't even know what color my eyes are." I decide to test Luka. I close my eyes. "What color are my eyes?" "Hazel, like your mum's." "Exactly. See, why doesn't he know that?" Luka sighs. "I do not know. But you know what I do know?" "Eight languages?" "Yes.but no. I know that your father loves you. Very much." "He loves Johnny more," I grumble. "I know sometimes it seems that way, but it's not true. You are his first born and his only daughter." "I suppose. But with you and mum, I don't feel that you love Anja more. It just seems equal." "I think that is maybe just because Anja's so much younger than you so it's obviously different between you, whereas Johnn'ys only three years younger than you so it does not seem as fair." "Hmm, maybe." "You know, you are going to have to explain this to your mother?" "I know. I'll do it and I'll do it well." Luka grins a ruffles my hair. I scowl at him and ran my fingers through it, which only makes Luka's grin bigger. I lean over and look at the chart. "What is it?" "Um.ninety six year old man with end stage lung cancer." "Oh." I know cases like these hit Luka hard. He may look all tough and act it, and he can sure stand up for himself, but he's a real softie. "Hmm. He's fascinating though. I mean, sometimes he seems fine and he tells wonderful stories, and all about his children. When I get old I want to be able to tell all these great stories. Granted I don't really want to get old, but, the time will eventually come." The door opens and mum walks in, carring Anja, who is wearing a little pink onesie. "Luka, honey, I-" She stops as she sees me. "Bailey, what are you doing here?" "I had a fight with dad and didn't really feel like staying." Mum shrugs and places Anja in her high chair. "Okay. You want me to talk to him." It's my turn to shrug. "If you want. I don't what him to yell at you." "Well, since you're here, could you please feed An for me?" "Sure." I go to the cupboard and get out a jar of baby food. "Mum?" "Bailey?" "Please don't call dad. I don't want him to get mad at you or Luka." "Alright baby, I won't call him." 


End file.
